


but i promise you, it's worth it

by Lysippe



Series: The Worst Witch 2018 Winter Fluff-A-Thon [20]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, s e q u e l f l u f f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: “Let’s go get some cider and make the rounds, shall we?” It sounded like a question, but Hecate knew better. For all Pippa had joked about Ada and her suggestions, she was hardly any better.“If we must.”“We must.” Pippa’s voice was pleasant, but firm. She, at least, was generally friendly with Hecate’s coworkers -- more so, at times, than Hecate herself was -- and was clearly not about to allow Hecate to wither away the evening being a wallflower.





	but i promise you, it's worth it

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "i know it makes you nervous," which was day 4's submission, so while you CAN read this one by itself, and it stands alone fine-ish (which is why I switched that from being a chapter-fic to just being two separate fics), I'd go ahead and read that one, first.

If anyone had been surprised to see Pippa make an appearance on Hecate’s arm at the Cackle’s Academy staff holiday party, they did an exceptionally good job of hiding it. Though, Hecate thought, that may have been equally attributable to Pippa’s rather impressive ability to insert herself into any situation as though she belonged there, and make others believe it.

Which was exactly what she had done, when they had entered the room and Hecate immediately tensed. She knew Pippa had felt it. There was no way she wouldn’t, attached as she was to Hecate’s arm. And she knew that Pippa was aware of Hecate’s less than sociable tendencies. That this was an enduring trait that she would surely remember from their youths.

In those days, Pippa had always been quite content to do the lion’s share of the socializing, and allow Hecate to stand silently, awkwardly, at her side until such a time as she could make a tactful retreat, leaving Pippa to her conversations. Hecate had entirely too many memories of nights spent this way. Of Pippa chatting merrily with their peers, their teachers, anyone who would engage with her. Of herself, stiff and uncomfortable and itching to leave. 

Hecate’s social skills always had been her greatest deficiency.

But this was Hecate’s school, and these were Hecate’s coworkers, and Pippa had attended this party at Hecate’s invitation, so Hecate felt that she did have an obligation to do some of the work. Even if that meant an evening spent listening to Algernon Rowan-Webb ramble on about spell science methods that were so long outdated that even Hecate couldn’t find any merit in them.

When Hecate glanced around the room, assessing her surroundings and the other witches and wizards present, she was somewhat gratified to note that there were relatively few faces she did not recognize. Ada, despite her pushiness in convincing Hecate to bring a date, had showed up alone. As had a rather red-cheeked Miss Tapioca, who was clutching at a suspiciously empty wine glass while she talked the ear off a rather fetching redhead in a green dress, who appeared to be Dimity’s date for the night. The young witch looked, to Hecate’s quiet shock, to be quite engaged in whatever particular aspect of magical food preparation had caught Miss Tapioca’s interest. Dimity, on the other hand, looked quite a bit less enthused, her eyes glazed over as her foot tapped absently against the floor.

It took Pippa longer than expected to lose patience with Hecate’s observations, but eventually, Pippa gave her arm a light squeeze, pink fingernails digging into dark fabric, leaning in to whisper in Hecate’s ear. “Come along, now, Hiccup. We can’t hide in the corner forever.”

The words  _ can’t we?  _ we’re on the tip of her tongue, but Hecate thought better of it. Instead, she heaved a sigh and laid her free hand atop Pippa’s, still resting on her bicep.

“Let’s go get some cider and make the rounds, shall we?” It sounded like a question, but Hecate knew better. For all Pippa had joked about Ada and her suggestions, she was hardly any better.

“If we must.”

“We must.” Pippa’s voice was pleasant, but firm. She, at least, was generally friendly with Hecate’s coworkers -- more so, at times, than Hecate herself was -- and was clearly not about to allow Hecate to wither away the evening being a wallflower.

So, Hecate allowed herself to be led away to the refreshments, where Pippa cheerily poured them each a rather more generous portion of spiked cider than Hecate would have done for herself. 

At Hecate’s raised eyebrow, Pippa simply held the cup out and shrugged. “We appear to be a bit behind the curve where general intoxication is concerned.”

“Generally, that is intentional,” Hecate said primly, but she accepted the cup nonetheless and took a sip, grimacing immediately. “Miss Tapioca has been somewhat… heavy-handed with her measurements tonight, it seems.”

Pippa looked about to laugh at Hecate’s distaste, until she took a sip of her own. “Oh, dear, that does seem to be the case,” she said, eyes widening slightly. “We’ll need to sip at these sparingly, won’t we?”

Hecate, who would just as happily have abandoned the drink altogether, nodded. “We shall.” 

Pippa looked about to say something, perhaps to suggest they continue making their way around the room and actually speak to someone, but it was at that moment that Dimity appeared to register their presence in the room. 

“HB!” she said loudly, and with decidedly more enthusiasm than Hecate had ever heard Dimity address her with. Dimity whispered something to her companion, who nodded and quickly returned to her conversation, then rushed over with the speed of a woman who had been entirely too bored for entirely too long. Despite her better efforts, Hecate felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips at the obvious desperation in Dimity’s gait.

“Really, Dimity,” Hecate said, doing her best to keep the amusement out of her voice. “ _ Why  _ do you still insist on calling me that? You are responsible for the proliferation of that nickname through several generations of girls at this point.”

“Well, why stop now?” Dimity responded, the same easy mischief in her eyes that often drove Hecate quite mad. 

“I could think of a number of reasons,” Hecate said tartly.

“And all of them would line up nicely with the reasons I keep doing it,” Dimity said chipperly. Then, lifting a hand to her forehead in the same sloppy, hurried way she always had, she turned to Pippa. “Well met, by the way, Miss Pentangle. Nice to see you here tonight. Unexpected, but nice.”

Pippa, who was doing a decidedly poor job of smothering her laughter behind her cup of cider, lifted a hand of her own and inclined her head with all the good grace she could muster. “You as well, Dimity. But do call me Pippa. And I’ll admit, this wasn’t in my plans, but Hecate here,” she patted Hecate fondly on the arm, “sprung the invitation on me at the eleventh hour, and, well, she asked  _ so _ nicely…” Her voice had a teasing lilt to it, and Hecate stiffened slightly, waiting for whatever impish response Dimity would surely come up with.

Indeed, Dimity waggled her eyebrows, and said, with a puckish grin, “Did she now?”

“She certainly did not,” Hecate interjected stonily, but Pippa and Dimity both ignored her.

Dimity glanced back in the direction from which she had joined them. “Just glad for some good company, honestly. It would seem that my date for the evening has a bit more of an interest in culinary magic than I had realized.” She grimaced, and Pippa laughed in full this time.

“I had no idea that you and Poppy Nightwood were… involved,” Pippa remarked, with a meaningful told of her head in the direction from which Dimity had come.

“Ah,” Dimity said, a bit sheepish. “You’re familiar, I take it?”

“We’ve met,” Pippa said mildly, her expression giving away nothing to Hecate, who was quite woefully lost in the conversation, but filed the name away in her mind to inquire about later. “Lovely witch, quite a talented cook, too. You’re doing well for yourself.”

“I like to think so,” Dimity agreed, genial as ever. “Though I suppose that could be said for more than one person here, eh, HB?” She raised her eyebrows in Hecate’s direction with a mischievous grin.

Hecate was about to turn and say something that she was certain Pippa would deem more snotty than was strictly necessary, when Pippa interjected, with a meaningful look at Hecate and a sharp tug at her elbow.

“Why exactly  _ is  _ it that you are the only one among the staff here who calls Hecate HB?” she asked, effectively cutting off any response Hecate may have been thinking of.

Dimity looked at her curiously. “Habit, I guess,” she shrugged. “Been calling her that for as long as I can remember, now. It’d be weird to stop now.”

“Dimity was a student here,” Hecate interjected, seeing Pippa’s confusion. Then, with an arched eyebrow, “Though one would hardly have known it. She was always more dedicated to… athletic pursuits than to her schoolwork.”

Dimity grinned. “Best flyer in the school, though. Even you can’t deny that.”

“It was your one redeeming quality,” Hecate remarked drily. “Unlike your marks, your penchant for causing trouble, and your uncanny knack for coming up with meaningless nicknames for staff members that stick around for generations.”

Pippa, who was well aware that no matter how her behavior might indicate otherwise, Hecate had always felt rather fondly towards Dimity, stepped in before the bickering could intensify. “I had no idea that Dimity was a student of yours,” she said. “I’ve not yet experienced the joys of having a former student on my staff. I can imagine that was quite an adjustment for the both of you.”

“You have  _ no idea _ ,” Hecate said. 

Dimity rolled her eyes. “Honestly, she talks like I was the worst student she’s ever had. You’d think I turned her cat purple or something.” 

“If I recall,” Hecate said, eyes narrowing, “you  _ did  _ somehow manage to turn my familiar a rather violent shade of magenta.” 

“Ah, yes.” Dimity had just enough good grace to look somewhat abashed. “We did manage to get her back to normal, though, didn’t we?”

“ _ I _ was able to brew a color-correcting potion, yes,” Hecate said pointedly.

“Technicalities.” Dimity waved a hand dismissively.

Hecate was about to say something about how calling technicalities on truthful statements was a poor excuse to muddy the facts when they didn’t lean in one’s favor -- which would surely have led to another go-around about hers and Dimity’s shared history and the various pranks which had been played and sentiments which were or were not shared -- when Pippa stepped in.

“Dimity, dear, not to interrupt, but I believe you’re being summoned.” Pippa gestured meaningfully behind Dimity.

A glance over Dimity’s shoulder told Hecate that the redhead -- Poppy, Pippa had called her -- had finally tired of her discussion and was searching the room for Dimity. Everything about her spoke of the need for rescue, as Miss Tapioca chattered on, oblivious to her newly unreceptive audience. 

“Ah, yes,” Dimity said, turning around, her cheeks coloring somewhat at the cross expression on her date’s face. “Best get back to her, then. Lovely seeing you both, and hopefully we’ll be seeing you around these parts more often, Pippa.” She said the last bit with a mischievous grin and less-than-subtle wink, before rushing off to beg forgiveness for her absence.

“Well, that was lovely,” Pippa said, but Hecate could see her sly smile quite clearly. “It’s good to know that you have someone here to keep you on your toes when I can’t be around.” 

“Dimity Drill has been doing her mortal best to ‘keep me on my toes’ since the first time she set foot in this school,” Hecate said, though without much bite behind her words. 

“Yes, well, what are students and colleagues for. I daresay my own pupils nearly give me a heart attack at least once a week. And that’s not even touching on the more spirited of my staff.” Pippa’s eyes twinkled and she gently led Hecate away from the refreshments -- but not before vanishing their glasses, and grabbing two more which she filled with what Hecate hoped was eggnog. 

Pippa, Hecate was pleased to see, was having a wonderful time. This was a side of her that Hecate had never quite understood, that she could never wrap her head around properly. That Pippa could exist in a room full of people, put herself right in the thick of the social action, and somehow emerge not only not exhausted, but energized.

Hecate, conversely, was half an hour in and more than ready to leave.

“Now, how about we find somewhere quieter for you to recharge,” Pippa suggested softly, eyes warm and gentle in the way Hecate only ever saw directed at her.

It was something she would never quite understand, but she was profoundly grateful for it, nonetheless.

“That would be… quite appreciated,” Hecate agreed, and she allowed herself to be steered into one of the quieter corners of the room. She was about to open her mouth to apologize -- for being antisocial, for being unnecessarily cantankerous, for being any of the things people so often complained about in social situations -- but Pippa put a stop to it quite soundly when she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Hecate’s cheek. 

Hecate tensed briefly at the contact, at the open and very public displays of affection that had always come so easily to Pippa, but were such a struggle for her, even now, so many years later. Even when she had no reasons to doubt her own feelings, or Pippa’s, or anything else. But she forced herself to relax, slowly, one muscle group at a time. Told herself that no one was staring, that no one cared. That she was allowed this peace, and, equally important, that Pippa was allowed it as well.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight, Hiccup.” Pippa’s voice was a low whisper, soft enough that Hecate could barely hear. “I know parties have never been… quite to your liking, but it means a great deal to me that you wanted me here with you tonight. Even,” she added, “if it was only at Ada’s suggestion.”

“Ada can be quite persuasive when she wants to be,” Hecate agreed. “But in all fairness, this was one of her better ideas. Your presence has made an evening I typically find utterly unbearable… quite a bit more bearable.” Hecate would never be the sort to find such events particularly enjoyable in any way, but Pippa’s presence at her side had been a balm of sorts, in much the same way it had when they were younger. It had been the difference between an evening spent standing sourly in the corner, counting down the minutes until her departure could be deemed socially acceptable; and what Hecate had to admit had not been a wholly unpleasant evening. 

As she always had, Pippa made even the most unpleasant situations bearable.

Hecate considered attempting to put her thoughts into words, but knew, without question, that she would never be able to find the right ones to do justice to quite how important all of it was to her. Instead, she took one deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut in preparation, and planted a quick kiss atop Pippa’s forehead. When she pulled away, Pippa’s eyes were almost comically wide with shock, and Hecate felt a rush of gratification at knowing that there were still ways in which she could take Pippa by surprise.

“So,” Hecate asked, teasingly, attempting to distract from her own pink cheeks as well as Pippa’s, “how, exactly  _ do _ you know Dimity’s date?”

Pippa’s cheeks pinkened, but she gave Hecate a mild shrug. “Ah. Nothing interesting, really. A few dates, several years ago. She really is a wonderful cook.”

Hecate’s curiosity got the better of her. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Pippa looked at her curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Hardly. You’re a grown witch, and you’ve hardly spent the last thirty years living as a nun. I would be more surprised if you had a shortage of romantic partners.”

Pippa pursed her lips, looking suddenly discomfited. “Truth be told,” she said slowly, “Poppy was my first… date in quite some time, and my last before we met.” Seeing the questions forming behind Hecate’s eyes, she continued, “I just never had much interest, I suppose. Life kept me busy. Running a school is hectic business, as you know. And it was… well, never, really, that anyone caught my attention enough to justify the energy it took to maintain any sort of romantic relationship. Not until you came back around, in any event.” 

Hecate, stunned out of all sensible thinking, could only respond with, “I don’t understand what is so special about me, that, after all I’ve done,  _ I _ would be the one you deemed worthwhile.”

“Oh, honestly.” Pippa sighed. “You’re my best friend, Hiccup. You’ve always been. I’ve never known anyone who understands me quite like you, much less who makes me feel the way you do. Besides,” she added cheekily, “Poppy was always much too cheerful. I guess you could say I prefer my witches a bit more on the cranky side.”

“Lucky for me then, I suppose.” 

Hecate knew there was no bite behind Pippa’s words. That there was nothing but fondness and affection and, as she was quite aware, love.

“Lucky for us both, I should say.” Pippa reaches up and gave Hecate’s nose a fond tap. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I see Ada across the room, looking dreadfully pleased with herself. We should probably go over and let her bask in the pleasure of being right for a bit, don’t you think?”

Hecate, who most certainly did not think anything of the sort, nodded reluctantly. "I suppose that is only fair."  But when she caught the knowing twinkle in Ada's eye, Hecate nodded quickly toward the drink table and added, "However, I think I shall need another drink before I am quite prepared for this particular conversation."

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr @ thebestdressedrebelinhistory


End file.
